A SINISTER RETRIBUTION
by Aristeia de Luca
Summary: ONE-SHOT. When mage F!Hawke turns Fenris over to Danarius, he vows to make her suffer for tossing him away and prove her wrong in thinking that slaves and mages live parallel lives. When Fenris escapes to her home, intent on killing her, what will she do? WARNING: Gruesome violence/torture, non-consensual smut, and character death. NSFW! Cover image by sandara at DeviantArt.


**Hello, everyone! This is a gift-fic for my 100th follower from Cancel Me Out. I am very pleased at the progress of that story.**

**However, it seems whenever I write a one-shot, I always lengthen it to one of the chapters of my main story, even though I personally only read 5k-10k one-shots. If you are reading this, I thank you very much for the patience and the support! T_T **

**This story is not at all what I thought it would be, but I still enjoyed writing it!  
**

**FAIR WARNING THOUGH - The following tale includes gruesome, sadistic violence, explicit non-consensual smut, yelling and character death. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. **

**Hope you enjoy this! -ADL  
**

* * *

**A SINISTER RETRIBUTION**

* * *

Red hair... like the leaves in autumn. Eyes the shade of sage green.

There she sat, exactly as he had seen in his visions, only taller and more grown-up.

Fenris' legs wobbled like jelly, suddenly heavy like he had weights tied at his ankles. He couldn't believe it... he knew the person sitting before him was real; he wasn't dreaming. She was the real thing, there was no mistaking it. She had the same eyes he had, and her slender posture was oddly familiar. Here she was, sitting in the pub - in a place he frequented almost every day of the week.

His heart raced and he didn't know what to say as their eyes met. He didn't say anything, but both of them knew immediately of the other.

"So it's true... it really is you."

Her voice... so mature and sophisticated.

Why did she look so nervous? Was that a note of sadness and regret in her tone?

"Varania?" There was a slight straining in his voice; he couldn't help it. Every fiber of his being was tingling with anticipation, excitement, and anxiety.

"I... I remember you." He managed to say, his mind racing through the vague images of his past. "We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me..."

"Leto." She answered, standing from her seat. "That is your name."

His name... was Leto. Somehow, he didn't feel any sort of connection to the word; it didn't feel right to call himself that name. Even in his head, it carried an air of displacement. But he could think about that later. Right now, all that mattered was that he had the chance to finally meet his sister...

Millions of questions entered his mind that he wanted to ask: How old was she? Where was their mother and father? What did she do? Was it hard for her to travel here to Kirkwall to meet him? Where did she work now? And... why did she seem so sad?

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Why are you so-"

"I'll give you three guesses." Hawke's sarcastic, snide remark almost startled him. He felt as though he had a bucket of icy water splashed in his face. He had almost forgot that blasted mage was there behind him, along with the rest of their entourage. He felt embarrassed for showing his vulnerability at that point, and frowned so hard he could see the ridge of his own brows.

But before he could react any further, a cold sneering voice came down the steps of the pub:

"Ah, my little Fenris. Predictable as always."

Fenris looked up the stairwell. his expression turning to desperation within seconds.

_No...No, this couldn't be... _Venhedis! What was he thinking? Wasn't this what he wanted? Isn't this what he predicted would happen? Hadn't he prepared himself for such a event?

"I'm sorry it came to this Leto."

Her words, moments ago so aching and sad, suddenly made sense. And now, instead of having that longing sensation to sit down and talk, Fenris had the tingling urge to plunge his fist within her chest and pluck her heart out like a delicate flower. He didn't give a damn if she shared his blood.

"You!" He snarled at his 'sister', his voice now sounding more like his own. "_You_ did this! _You_ led him here!" He accused.

"Now, now Fenris." His master's voice rang hollow in his ears, every octave bringing back stinging, painful memories and making his blood boil. "Don't blame your sister. She did what every good Imperial citizen should."

Fenris' brows furrowed so deeply his head hurt, and his lips curled into a most unpleasant frown as he snarled: "_I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius! _But I certainly won't let you kill me to get them."

Danarius' bemused laugh sent a scorching sensation to his chest. Fenris looked at the magister in contempt and distrust, prepared to claim the life of his former master. But Danarius looked at him with a demeaning, dirty smirk:

"Oh, how little you know, my pet." He purred, placing his hand over Varania's shoulder. He then turned to Hawke. "And this is your new mistress, then? The Champion of Kirkwall? Quite lovely."

Fenris growled.

_Hawke, his mistress? Never. She was his temporary ally; that was all._

Then his stomach churned as Hawke spoke:

"If you want him, he's yours." She said in her usual nonchalant manner.

"WHAT?" Fenris turned to glare at her. _What was she playing at? Was she serious?_

"Huh. I thought I was the only one thinking that." Anders chimed.

Fenris' stomach did a backflip and he resisted the urge to punch Anders in the throat.

"Interesting," Danarius replied with a reserved smile. "I'll make it worth your while, of course. The power of the Imperium will be at your disposal, Champion."

Fenris swallowed.

_Wait, was this really happening? Was this a dream? Gods, please let it be a dream!_

Despite the raging, burning sensation that was swelling up inside him at her words of betrayal, Fenris had to turn to Hawke and plead. _Yes, he was going to beg her. _He was no fool – there was no way he could escape Danarius without her help. He had his pride, yes. But he wasn't stupid either.

"Don't do this, Hawke." He said in a throaty, beseeching voice. "I need you."

Was she honestly going to give him up, just like this? They had been together for so long. Even if they had irreconcilable differences, shouldn't their hard-earned companionship mean something? No matter what he had told her in the past, no matter how much fighting and bickering, Fenris never thought Hawke would abandon him or stab him in the back. Not like this... not like this at all.

"You're on your own, Fenris." She said, her eyes staring coldly into his.

His breath caught his throat. All he could do was stare stupidly at her, his face contorted and twisted into a fit of rage, anguish, and forlorn. Apparently, he had been wrong in asking for her help all along. Venhedis! He should've known. He should've anticipated this. Why did he think otherwise? After all, she was a mage. What more did he expect? He was a fool. He had been played.

Betrayal never tasted so sour.

He should have known: _Never trust a mage, you fool!_

"I suppose I should not be surprised." He spat to her.

"That's our Champion." Varric smiled.

"What shall it be, Fenris?" Danarius' smug voice never sounded so poisonous and wretched. "Will you throw your life away?" His master sneered.

Fenris stood there, weighing his options.

There was no way he could take fight them on his own. There was no way he could escape. Even if he killed himself right here and now, it would only cause him to bring more shame than he already felt. Besides, Danarius would only need his limp corpse to retrieve the lyrium on his skin.

"No... I will go with you." He said solemnly, turning to his master and looking to the ground.

He knew how this would end.

He knew from the very beginning... he knew this would end in bad news - in his downfall. After all these years of working so hard to build up a new life, to build up new memories and new friends...

He was just running in circles. There was no way this freedom would've lasted. And now, he would be dragged back to Tevinter in chains, tortured by his master until Danarius felt it satisfactory to let Fenris share a few minutes of solidarity before dropping him into the laboratory, where his memory would be erased yet again – the ultimate punishment.

"Lovely, here's a token of my appreciation, Champion." Danarius smiled, handing Hawke a hefty sum of coin and treasure. "I'm sure I can arrange to have something more... appropriate sense along soon."

Hawke nodded, ignoring Fenris' look of utter contempt and hatred towards her.

"Come along, everyone. The boat leaves for Minrathous within the hour!." Danarius chimed as he walked towards the door.

Fenris has no choice but to follow, his head bent down, and his life now in shackles again.

Doom.

Doom, doom, doom, doom.

_Doom_ – that was the sound of every footstep Fenris made as he followed Danarius and his silver-armored soldiers made a loud, heavy thud that scorched his heart with a fire that burned. It was a fire that burned for vengeance – a hateful flame that would never diminish so long as Hawke knew she had betrayed him. As long as she lived, her every breath just added fuel to his fire.

As long as she lived, he would vow to return and end her life with his own hands.

* * *

Three hours later, Marian Hawke was standing in front of her bedroom fireplace with Anders beside her. She stared blankly at the flames, crackling and dancing before her worrisome eyes. She had said she wanted to do some light reading, but the book in her lap remained largely untouched. It laid there silently on her legs, two pages turned but barely a word read.

"Hawke?" Anders frowned, waving his hand before her before jokingly asking: "Are you there? Has the Fade taken you?"

"What? No – no, I'm fine, Anders." She glanced up at him with glazed, sparkling eyes.

"Hawke? Are you sure? You don't look fine to me." He knelt down at her side and put his hands on her knees. "What's the matter? You can tell me, love."

"It's just..." She sniffed.

"Hawke, don't cry." He told her. "You know I can't stand seeing you like that... Tell me what this is about. Is it what happened today, with Fenris? I thought we decided it was best for us..."

"I did, but..."

"You made a hard decision." He whispered, leaning up to kiss her lightly on the cheek. He tasted the saline in her tears and wrapped his arms around her.

"I can't stand myself," She whispered, eyes tearing up and her voice cracking. "I can't believe I did that. What has all this done to me? Maker, I feel like the endless, black pit of the Void itself! What would Mother think if she saw me today? To think that all I've done... everything I've accomplished all these years... was for power and wealth. I just wanted to feel like I've accomplished _something_, andthat all I've sacrificed - all I've lost - was for _something _greater than myself."

"It _is_, Hawke." Anders tried.

"It isn't." Hawke shook her head vigorously. "I … I thought as long as told myself that everything I did was for the mages – to fight for our cause - it would be worth it."

"You did what you had to." Anders told her gently. "Fenris would have opposed you. He would've tried to stop us at any-"

"That's not the point, Anders!" Hawke shouted, turning away. "I... I should have never thought to... I shouldn't have turned him over to Danarius. I didn't think it through at the time, but now that the deed's done... I can't stand what I did to him! I didn't even think for a second that I'd just doomed him to a life worse than death!"

"Hawke-"

"Maker, all he wanted was a free life, away from magic! Meeting me was the worst thing that happened to him in all these years! I lied and betrayed him! Who knows what Danarius plans to do to him now! He'll probably erase Fenris' hard-earned memories again! How could I have been so cruel? I knew freedom was all Fenris ever asked for, and what did I do? Just for some meager coins and recognition from Tevinter I sold him out like a cheap trinket on the market!"

"Hawke, don't..."

"How low will I go..." She swallowed her own sorrow. "How long until I give in to the demons myself? How much further can I sink?"

"Don't talk about yourself like that!"

Anders grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into the pools of her sad, blue eyes.

"You are no villain, Hawke." He told her, pulling her into a embrace. "You did what you had to, and you made a difficult decision. Tevinter has many mages that will help us fight for equality. Fenris wouldn't have agreed to help us liberate the mages anyway – you know this."

Hawke said nothing. She couldn't even meet his gaze.

"It was the right thing to do." He told her, pulling away and brushing her tears from her cheeks. "I promise you – things will go smoothly from here on out. Stop worrying about the past. It's over now. We have a great future ahead if our plan follows through."

"Are you sure about this?" She asked.

"Positive." Anders reassured. "Now wipe those tears off, my love. Please. You are far too beautiful a lady to have your face stained in tears. Today was supposed to be special for us, remember? I even bought a bottle of your favorite rose wine."

Hawke smiled sadly, trying not to think of the wines Fenris had stored in his bottom cellar. She had spent some time with him, after all. A part of her wanted to regard him as a friend, even though they argued at every corner. She couldn't stop the repulsive, swirling feeling in her stomach, no matter what she tried to distracting herself with. The book obviously hadn't worked.

"Relax," Anders told her. "I'm moving in with you; I'll be here for you, no matter what. Remember: we're in this together. Trust me, everything is going to work out, love."

"I..." Hawke looked at him. "I'll try."

"Good." He nodded. "I'm going to go get my things, okay? Will you wait for me here?"

Hawke looked at him and swallowed, nodding slowly. "I'll wait. I'll be here."

"Good, I'll be right back." Anders smiled. "Don't worry, love. It won't take long."

* * *

Perhaps Danarius thought that Fenris had been broken now that his slaves' escape had ended dreadfully in betrayal from those whom he considered his close allies. Or perhaps it was overconfidence on Danarius' part. Either way, Danarius' henchmen weren't very attentive in keeping an eye on their prisoner. In fact, they seemed much more interested in playing cards than watching Fenris. Then again, the poker table only lay a few yards away from the cell he was held in, so it wasn't as though the guards had much to worry about.

Fenris' mind thumped and pulsated to the beating of his heart. He swore the veins on his forehead were about to burst; he could feel the protrusions with the palm of his hand as he sat there, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. The cell was cold, the ship was making him sick with the foul stench of fish, and they weren't even moving yet. The guards spared him a look or two, grinning and pointing, shouting and berating... common things that happened to him since he was a elf (and a slave).

But Fenris was not interested in their taunting, or their poker conversations, or anything regarding his own mortal well-being for that matter. He thought about it long and hard - he didn't mind that his life was going to the Void. He didn't care that he was going back to that wretched magister's domus to serve him wine, be his bodyguard, and be his personal servant again. He didn't care if Danarius had planned on brainwashing him again.

No, he didn't care about any of that.

All he cared about was one thing – Hawke.

He wanted to wring her neck; he wanted to stomp her bones under his feet.

He wanted her to taste the bitterness in her mouth.

And then he wanted to crush her black heart in his hand and gaze upon a tar that spewed out.

Fenris looked down at his hands. The wretched lyrium ink that lined his tanned skin was still there. These despicable markings – this vile, inked curse in his veins. It had been the cause of this – it was the reason why Fenris was now sitting here in a dark, damp cell looking out the barred window to stare into the full moon.

These cruel markings that he had not asked...

That was when a thought came to him as he traced the lyrium with his fingers.

Fenris stood up and walked over to the bars holding him prisoner.

The guards looked up from their game and grinned.

"Trying to use that magic trick again, elf?" They sneered. "The master already put up a magic barrier on it. You can't use your stupid lyrium phase-shift to get out of there. Ha ha!"

"And I suppose you're going to try stopping me from leaving?" Fenris barked at the nearest. "If I want to get out of here, I will."

The guard let out a laugh that sounded more like it belonged to a hyena than a human. He walked over to Fenris, smirking and tapping the bars with the handle of his sword. The sound echoed through the whole room and the rest of the guards just sat there and laughed.

"I'd like to see you try, knife-ears." He taunted.

"Gladly." Fenris stared at him darkly.

The guard let out a yelp of surprise when Fenris' hands shot through the openings between the bars, no lyrium needed, and grabbed his collar. Fenris pulled his prey violently against the metal bars and the poor guards' head collided with a loud thud. A sickening crack echoed the room as his corpse collapsed onto the floorboards, with the rest of the guards clamoring up in alarm.

Fenris wasted no time. He bent down and grabbed the keys from the dead idiot's pocket, never once using his lyrium, and quickly freed himself. After that, everything was a piece of cake. Kicking open the door to his cell, Fenris grabbed his greatsword and made easy work of Danarius' peons.

One by one, they fell to the ground like sad sacks of potatoes. Did Danarius really feel so assured of Fenris' devastation at Hawke's betrayal that the magister had only sprung these five measly knights to guard him? Pathetic! That ought to teach the magister for assuming Fenris hadn't changed since his escape.

Fenris leaped over the corpses and was about to walk out the cellar door before pausing to gaze at the nearby trunk. He opened it expertly, tapping the lock to spring it open, and his eyes feasted on a few potions and toxins, along with some very familiar devices that his master had brought along on the trip. Fenris shuddered at the thought, his mind twisting into further aggressive scowls.

Suddenly, his expression turned grim and dark. Without further notice, he grabbed what he needed, sprang from the confinements of the bottom cellar, tiptoed around the top deck, and slid away from the ship in the middle of the night.

* * *

The wind outside was cool and serene. The night sky was clear enough for the stars to peek through the darkness. The crescent moon jeered at Hawke through her bedroom window. Couples and familiar hurried home for the evening, and the trees rustled, whispering in hushed tones.

Just looking at those happy people made her sick.

Why were they so happy? What gave them the right? She frowned at them, but they didn't notice. What reason did they have to be so jolly when she was sitting her in a pool of misery? It wasn't fair. Were they not aware of how grim and devastating the world was for her? Did no one care?

Of course no one cared. Even if they did, it didn't matter – she was a mage, a abomination, a maleficar, a cursed and doomed being, unworthy of breath in the eyes of the Maker. Her beloved father was no longer there to protect her, Carver was not here to smack her atop the head and stop her from worrying, Bethany was not there to berate her twin and comfort Hawke, and Leandra left her with only a dying message for her that filled Hawke's heart with grief, depression, and emptiness.

All she had left now was Anders, and for some reason he was no longer enough to fill the gaping whole in her life. She loved him, yes. But her life was too difficult, too complicated, and too exasperating that it haunted her dreams and hounded her mind. Even Anders was not enough to make her feel content with her current life.

How could she have sacrificed Fenris like that?

What would her mother think of her if she was here?

Hawke placed her palms on the cold glass of her library window. She closed her eyes and grimaced at the idea. The pain in her heart hurt like needles piercing at every bone and fiber of her being. She wanted to scream; she felt like exploding. Her head throbbed like a hammer bashing against the inside of her skull, sending vibrations down to her knees. Her body felt hot and her breathing grew heavy, the condensation building up on her window.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass to relieve some of her anguishing fervor, but her hands now rolled up into fists against the window and she let out a deep, exasperated breath.

"_No celebration?"_

Hawke nearly jumped out of her skin and lit the carpet on fire with the sparks from her fingertips. Her hands instinctively grasped her wooden staff, the orange and blue beads swinging violently as she swished around. That voice... it couldn't be, could it?

She choked on her breath and her heart nearly dropped to the ground.

That white hair! That... that glowing lyrium radiating in her library!

Her face twisted into a expression of desperation and anguish. There was a unwelcome lump in her throat as she tried to speak. Nothing came out, and all she felt was the screaming voices vibrating in her skull: _No! No, no, no, no, no!_

"F-Fenris..." She breathed so quietly she was sure he had not heard her.

Here he stood before her, his muddy footprints trailing past the library door. His olive eyes looked at her in vengeance and hunger. How did he escape? What was he going to do to her? Hawke blinked and realized the answer on her own less than a second later. The look in his eyes said everything. Hawke was no fool; she knew what Fenris was here to do.

"What are you talking about?" She dared to ask.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." He replied coldly.

"H-How are you here?"

"I snuck out. Danarius wasn't very attentive. I don't think he counted on me escaping." Fenris looked around her library, his ears perking up like a dog in a new playing area.

"W-well... w-what are you doing here."

"Are you scared? Not very fitting for a mage." He remarked sarcastically. The tone of his voice was eerily serene. It only scared her more. Thankfully, he did not approach her... yet.

"I'm sorry!" She said outright, not wishing to harm him. "I didn't – Fenris, I didn't mean to say those things! I was never going to -"

"'You were never going to', what?" He growled as he slammed the door behind him. The chandelier above them shook from the force, and Hawke was almost sure a few books fell to the ground too. If Fenris wanted to, he could probably decimate the mansion if he so desired, leaving her under a heavy pile of rubble with her spinal column jutting out of her flesh.

She heard the lock fasten with a 'click', and gulped. That door was the only way out of the room. Was this the end? Could nothing be changed? What could she say to make it all go away?

"Look at you," He sneered. "You look like a poor, frightened rabbit in the woods."

"Fenris, I was never going to -"

"Turn me into Danarius? Ruin my life? Make everything that I've ever dreamed for, everything I've ever worked towards, everything I ever wanted – become a waste of a dream again?" His voice rose and she tried not to quiver at the thunderous octave that just rose in her home.

"Fenris, I don't-"

"You know Hawke, I always knew you were for the bloody mages – even though I told you repeatedly that they've ruined my life and many others – even though I told you how horrible my former master was. I _always knew _you and I didn't see eye-to-eye on many things," He glared at her with a seething intensity that made her chest heart with a painful, burning sensation. "But _never – never in a million years on the face of fucking Thedas – had I ever even considered you a liability to my freedom! Never in the many, many years we had been together, had I ever tried to give you away to the Circle, or tell you off to the Templars!"_

His every word cut through his teeth like a vindictive hiss, his gaze never leaving her.

Hawke clutched onto her staff tighter, her nails digging into her flesh. But she didn't care.

"What made you think you would be able to get away with it?" He snarled.

"Fenris, please believe me." She told him with glistening eyes. "I never meant to... I realized immediately afterward what a horrible mistake it was. I was a fool; I was stupid. I shouldn't have listened to Anders and-"

"Ah, the eager mage with her pet abomination." Fenris sneered again, cutting her off. "How appropriate. Why am I not surprised? Was he leaving to gather his things?"

Hawke stared at Fenris from the other side of the room, beads of sweat forming at her temples.

Fenris must've seen Anders leaving the estate. He must've been spying on them and waited for Anders to leave before entering her home. Bodahn and Sandal were gone and she was all alone; it was the perfect plan for the Tevinter fugitive.

"That is none of your concern." She tried to sound as indignant as possible. "I realize you're angry, Fenris. But-"

"Oh, 'angry' doesn't even cut it Hawke." Fenris said bitterly. "'Angry' doesn't even _begin_ to scratch the surface of the dwarves. I have never know betrayal to taste so... so bitter."

"Fenris, I didn't mean-"

"What happened back there... what happened at the pub - your words were ashes on my tongue."

"I'm sorry-"

"_And now you think apologies will be enough to make everything better?"_ Fenris roared. _"You think your pitiful excuses will be able to stop me?"_

"No!"

Hawke stamped her foot, her eyes watering.

She was sorry. She was very sorry. She knew even though Fenris was a scornful, pessimistic asshole, he deserved far more than he had received in his life. The only reason he was such a bitter companion was because of his dark past. She knew that from the beginning, but when the idea of mage liberation felt threatened by him, she thought it would be beneficial if... if they had Tevinter mages help them. Maker, what in the bleeding Black City had she been thinking?!

"Don't look at me like that," Fenris spat. "Don't look at me with watery eyes, filled with pity and sorrow. I don't need your pity or your apologies, Hawke."

"What are you doing here? Are you here to torture me? To stick your hand in my gut?" Her lip quivered, but she tried to stand her ground.

"An interesting suggestion." Fenris noted.

She glared at him through her foggy vision, her hand still clutched to her staff.

Yes, she felt horrible for what she had done to him, but she was also scared shitless of him. He kept glaring at her maliciously, and it sent shivers down her spine every time they made eye contact. She couldn't figure out whether to be sad and apologetic, or to rise up and yell back at him. She was angry too, after all.

How dare he come in to her home! How dare he spy on her! How dare he spout on and on about slavery when he was such a hypocrite! Mages and slaves lived parallel lives here, after all. Why couldn't he see the common sense in it? Mages and slaves were not so different! If had been a little ore open-minded, she would have to go so far and-

"You saw Anders?"

"I did," Fenris looked around her library, scanning the books. "I had half a mind to rip his head off, but I thought it might be better if I went directly to the source of my rage."

"So you were spying on me." Hawke glared.

"Perhaps you ought to have been more aware of your surroundings. Or were you too busy daydreaming about the abomination to notice?"

"Stop saying that. You are in no position to judge me," She snarled. "Or Anders. He is no abomination."

"Spoken like a true maleficar." Fenris let out a uncharacteristic laugh. It was disingenuous and unrelentingly cold. She felt the pickling sensation of every hair on her skin rise, and she knew it had nothing to do with her magic. She could only clutch onto her staff tighter.

"He is no monster." Hawke defended hotly.

"Clearly."

"If you're here to hurt me, get it over with!" She challenged. "I'm ready. Unsheathe your sword, elf!" Her voice was rough and coarse. Her mouth was dry and uneasy.

"There would be no fun in that." Fenris replied.

"Fun?" She looked at him furiously. "You think this is fun?"

"Don't you?" He glared back.

"I never-"

"Oh, stop trying to act innocent! There's not use in it now! You sent a sad, pitiful slave back to his master." Fenris spat. "Isn't that the fun you mages desire the most? Didn't you get a kick out of toying with me and making me look like a-"

"Oh, you're one to talk!" She snapped through her teeth. "Who's the one with the extraordinary habit of popping eyes out of their sockets, snapping spinal columns, and pulling hearts out of chests? I _had to _find a way to get you out of my way! You were never going to side with me anyway!"

_"Mages are the source of everything that has happened to my life! You are the source of my misery! I had no choice in the lyrium pumping through my veins!"_ He roared.

"_Neither did I have the choice of having magic in mine!"_ She retorted. "There is no difference in our predicaments! Why can't you see that?!"

"**_DO NOT_** compare me to the likes of you, wench!" Fenris unsheathed his sword and Hawke gulped. Was she prepared for this? Was he going to come charging any minute?

"The only difference between the two of us is that I didn't gleefully pluck out Hadriana's heart like it was the stem on top of a cherry! Every single life I've taken has come with its tolls, it's nightmares! You are not the only one suffering, Fenris!"

"_Oh, spare me your heartfelt words, Hawke! They are like venom for my ears. Do not pretend to know that which you don't understand._ You have _no idea_ what Hadriana did, and what she represented!" His eyes filled with contempt and irritation. "You don't know her as I do!"

"Yes, yes. She's a mage and she tried to enslave you and bring you back to for Danarius." Hawke said. "But how does that relate to me or Anders? Just because she does cruel things does not mean you have to look down on the rest of the mages! I am a mage and I do not own a single slave."

"_That's because you SOLD THEM TO ANOTHER MAGISTER!" _

He let out a angry roar and swung his blade around furiously, breaking the leg of her coffee table. The table crashed onto the floor into pieces with glass everywhere. Hawke stood there, trying to be calm as she watched Fenris trash her library in a fit of unbottled, unleashed rage. At least he wasn't smashing her into a bloody pulp, though she was very suspicious on his lack of action towards her.

"You say you want to be a free man, but all you talk about is your past." She said in a quiet voice, her face ashen and white with equal rage. "You want to get away, but you never stop thinking about it. All you do is gripe and moan and bitch about your poor, painful markings. Well at least your markings weren't there from the moment you were born!" She snapped.

"My markings were here from the moment I awoke in my cellar without a single memory of a life before then!" Fenris lifted his blade and smashed her ceramic vase into pieces. Hawke was surprised his bare feet weren't getting cuts and gashes from the millions of glass and ceramic pieces littered on the floor.

"I have _never _done anything to hurt you! It was not I who burned that lyrium into your flesh!"

"Yes, all you did was turn me back to Tevinter." His sarcastic tone rung in her ears. "All mages are the same, and you proved that very clearly today: You will use me for your own selfish purposes, toying with my mind as you please. Throwing me away at your earliest convenience."

"Fenris-"

"But not anymore, Hawke." He told her darkly as he approached. "You will not be seeing me again... for a long, long time."

He lunged for her and she rolled out of the way against a bookshelf.

Red and orange flames appeared in the palm of her hands and she threw her fireball at him as she took cover.

"If you want to kill me, you're going to have to try harder!" She yelled.

"Gladly!"

The bookshelf behind her collapsed with his next attack and she fell onto the ground with a bloody lip. She barely dodge the blow with her staff. Her knees were cut up in the fray from the broken glass pieces, and when she got back up, Fenris was already heading her way.

His next blow knocked her staff clean out of her palms.

She rolled into cover, ducking his sword, and scrambled to retrieve it. But as soon as she got on her feet a bright, silver flash appeared before her eyes, launching her against the wall on the far side. Books fell from the shelves above her, one of them hitting her on the head quite painfully. She let out a yelp as more books fell on her.

Maker, what was she thinking? What had she done? Of course Fenris was mad. She sold him back into slavery! She deserved this. She ruined his life.

Still, she never imagined he would have the gall to harm her like this.

Was this really happening?

_"Stupid. Little. Mage."_

She was pulling herself out of the mound of books when she gasped and immediately knew it was too late to get out of harm's way. Her arms rose to meet Fenris' sword again, and the wooden stick in her hands broke within seconds, the crystal center shattering into pieces around them.

She felt his cold, steel talons dig into her throat and gasped, trying to pry his fingers off. Within seconds, her feet left the ground and were dangling in midair. She kicked and struggled, but all to no avail. His claws tore into the soft flesh of her cheek. She felt the burning sensation across her face and smelled the metallic scent of blood immediately.

"No...please." She croaked.

"Oh, poor little mage." Fenris wore a smirk that she had never seen before. It was a sadistic grin, a haunting, dark smile that made her heart jerk forward in the most uncomfortable manner.

He pulled her face closer, hissing into her ear: _"Are you afraid, little mage? Are you scared? Do you think I'm about to kill you?" _

She couldn't even answer back. Her eyes were watering and blurring in and out of focus, and her face felt hot and feverish from the lack of oxygen. She was blanking out when...

His hands loosened from her throat.

The air was rushing back into her lungs when she found herself falling to the ground, her vision blurred and barely regained. The next thing she heard a squishing noise, followed by a sudden agonizing, excruciating pain in her palm.

"AAAUUUUGH!"

She barely recognized the shrew, high-pitched scream coming from her own throat. All she saw were hot, white flashes before her eyes. When her vision came back, her hand was pulsating and gushing out dark red all over her carpet.

"WHAT THE FUCK, FENRIS!" She cried in agony, curling up on the floor to shrink and cringe at the vehement gash in the center of her palm.

She could see the blood very clearly now, running down her arm. She could barely move because it was so deep, and so excruciatingly painful for her to endure. Just a twitch of her finger made her wound hurt so badly she wanted to pass out. She had never been hurt so severely before.

The optimistic Hawke in her head was just glad Fenris hadn't stabbed a hole through her hands.

_Was this what he wanted? Did he want to slowly torture her until she died? Did he want to watch her writhe and twist in pain before pulling on her heart and subjecting her hours of agony? Was he waiting for Anders to come back so he could play these games with the both of them?_

He didn't reply to her. Instead, his hot talons dug into her other wrist and pulled her onto her back. She tried kicking, but he easily lodged himself between her legs.

From the corner of her eyes she saw the gleam of the silver dagger come her way again.

Too late.

"UUUAAGH!" She tried holding her breath, but the pain was too great, and the piercing sensation coupled by the sick, squishing sound of his blade jabbing into her flesh was just too much. She screamed at him, her eyes tearing and glazed: "FUCK YOU!"

She tried jerking away and twisted her body to her knees in order to get away, but this time Fenris left the silver dagger lodged into her palm like she was to take part in some sort of blood ritual. She bit her lip, trying to think of anything but the piercing, grueling pain in her hand. She didn't even have the strength to kick Fenris off as he straddled and pinned her to the ground. Without her magic, she didn't stand a chance against him.

Ignoring her screams and pleading, he took out a small flask and started pouring a strange magenta liquid over her hands.

**"_What the fuck are you doing?!"_** She screamed, the searing pain from the chemical taking her to whole new level of pain, her body jerking violently against him. She tried thrashing and yelling, hoping the neighbors would hear, but all she was awarded was a slap across her cheek (the bleeding, scratched-up cheek too!)

"_Please, stop! It hurts! Please! Maker!"_

"You have no idea what pain is, little Hawke." Fenris snarled, bearing his gritted teeth.

"You just cut into my flesh, you asshole! Are you hoping I'll bleed out to death?" She shouted. "Am I to be part of your master's blood ritual? What was that you just spilled all over me?"

"A cut like that is nothing." He replied as he watched her beneath him, writhing in pain. "And I have no master, Hawke. Not now. Not ever. You would do well to remember that."

"Please, Fenris..." She pleaded. "Don't … don't do this..."

"You don't even know what it is I'm planning," Fenris told her.

"It hurts... don't..." She tried. "Don't … don't hurt me anymore. Please."

"Oh? _You_ are begging _me_ now?" Fenris smiled widely, the wicked curves on his lips menacing and cruel as he gazed down at her limp arms and trembling body. He leaned down and she felt his breath hit her face as he whispered: _"How nice a change this is: Hearing a mage plead and beg me for their life."_

She swallowed, her face hot and her eyes blinking away the tears. Her heart was thumping so hard she thought it might drop out of her body, and her breath was uneven and heated. Adrenaline pumped through her veins rigorously, desperately trying to fix her painful plight.

"Do you have any idea what you were sending me away to face?" He snarled.

"Fenris, I didn't mean to. I promise. Like I said- _AAAAAUUUGH! **FUCK!**_"

If she thought the feeling of Fenris plunging his sharp dagger into her palm and then pouring mysterious purple chemicals over was bad, the agonizing sensation she felt when he pulled out the lodged dagger in her hand was even worse. She wanted to explode. She wanted to die. She wanted anything else but to endure more of what he had in store.

"How long have you been working with Danarius?" He roared.

"Never! Fenris, I never met him prior to today! I didn't think-"

"You're damn right you 'didn't think'! It was all just a funny little joke to you, wasn't it? You have no idea what it was like for me in Tevinter, do you?" He asked. "I've explained so many times, but you... you, poor little mage, were just too preoccupied with your own sorry, insignificant life. You thought I was just playing the storyteller and trying to relieve you of your own worries by talking about myself?! You think you're the only one with a problem?"

"Fenris, please!" Hawke stared at him with glossy, tear-stained, dilated eyes. "I only wanted... I only wanted to make you see that being a slave was not that different from being a mage. I was going to come back to save you after the liberation..."

That was half a lie; she only formed those plans seconds prior to Fenris coming into her home.

"You were sending me away for your own loathesome goals... For the sake of mages! Bah! And now you have the gall to compare a mage to a slave? _**How dare you compare my life with your own!**"_

"Fenris-"

"You say mages and slaves are the same." Fenris ignored her remarks. "But I'm going to show you just how wrong you are, great Champion of Kirkwall."

"Fenris, please-"

"I will show you what makes a slave different from a mage. I will show you what I've had to endure. And when I am done with you," He looked at her, his eyes overshadowed by the darkness and a deep, seething vicious glare. _"You will regret the day you ever crossed me, Hawke."_

"Fenris, it was a mistake." She told him. "I didn't mean to. I was wrong for doing that to you. I felt bad the moment you left. I shouldn't have done that to you, and I'm sorry."

"You 'feel bad' about it?" Fenris snorted. "Save your apologies, Hawke. While you were busy sitting in your comfy sofas 'feeling bad' about betraying me, I was on a cold, dark ship ready to set off back to Minrathous, where I would be serving wine to hateful magisters and busy myself being the plaything of other patrons!"

"Fenris, I was going to-"

"Come back?" Fenris smirked. "No, you weren't. Don't lie."

She swallowed.

"I'm going to put your through the Void itself, Hawke." He declared. "And when that sad, sad abomination comes back to find your mangled body, I'll rip out his precious voicebox as an early present for your gravesite."

Her eyes looked at him in seething rage and fierceness. He was going to implicate Anders into this as well? This jealous, spiteful, cold-hearted man! He was crueler than she had given him credit for. Was this the person Fenris really was? Was he showing his true colors now?

"He will be dead before you, and I will enjoy watching you snivel before me."

Despite the cringing twinge and torment in her palms and arms, at the mention of Anders – the only person left in Thedas that could make her feel better – she recovered her strength and let the familiar sparks fly through her fingertips. She gritted her teeth and pointed towards Fenris:

"Not if I can help it- _AAAAAUUGH, FUCK!_"

"Ah, I _thought _you'd try that."

"_What?"_

Hawke groaned, gazing at the thick, purple ooze rushing out of her wounds.

"What the fuck did you do to me? Di-Did you _seal my magic?_"

"First lesson of what it is like in Tevinter," Fenris smiled. "Even the mages there can be taken prisoner or made a slave. They have special venoms made to prevent a mage from using their powers for a specified time. It is, of course, going to be very painful for you, having never been subjected to the formula."

"You! You're not even a mage!" Hawke exclaimed, her face twisted and hot. "What is this? Where the fuck did you-"

"Danarius has many ways to make his peons behave." Fenris flashed her a dangerous look.

"You can't... this can't..."

"Pity, isn't it? Your blood has started clotting and the purple tar will seal off the connection with the magical veins in your body, little mage."

She breathed heavily, glaring at him.

"Scared, are we?" He whistled, his hand grabbing her jaw. "Perhaps feeling a little vulnerable?"

"You are a disgusting, vile creature." She shot at him angrily.

"Ah, so here it comes: You want mage liberation; you didn't ask for your magical powers. Yet now, you feel vulnerable without it. What a hypocrite you are, Hawke."

"I've learned to live a life with use of my magic, you ass!"

"And I learned to live a somewhat free life before you tossed me to the dogs like a ragdoll."

Fenris reached over and pulled her to an upright position.

"Ow! What-"

The next thing she knew, he was hauling her over his shoulder and carrying her out the library. His each step made her cringe as her limp, bloody arms collided against his back. Her stomach did multiple twists and turns. Fortunately, she was starting to grow used to the burning sensation of the purple tar oozing out of her wounds. She tried to move her arms, but the each muscle contracted and stretch out her wounds. Maker, looking at the back of her right hand, Fenris nearly stabbed a hole through her palm! She was surprised she had endured this much without fainting.

"Anders will be back." Her words fumbled out of her trembling lips as she watched him kick open the door to her bedroom.

"Good." He replied nonchalantly, throwing her onto the ground.

She landed on her side and tried climbing on her feet. But the moment she had gotten up on all fours, she felt his foot on her back pushing her back down. The vulnerable, abashed feeling she got as she tried to pull herself up, fighting his heavy weight beneath her while enduring the burning feeling in her palms, was enough to make her cry. She gave up after a few tries and just laid on the ground, her breathing heavy and her arms scathing with the burning toxin inside her body.

"Since you had no problems following orders from an abomination, I'll take it that you wouldn't mind following any of mine either."

"What makes you think that?" Hawke glared at him, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw was starting to ache. That look in his eyes... it was a mixture of anger, sadistic desire, and unrestricted loathing. What was he planning?

To say that she was scared shitless would've been an understatement. Her mind raced but she came up with no good options to get herself out of this: They were on the second story. There was no way she could make a fall from the second story. Not from the window in here, and not from the state of her arms. She could barely carry herself up, let alone open a door. Why did she ever curse her magical blood? Hawke never imagined she would miss it so much, especially now.

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

She never tried blood magic before, but she had read plenty about it. What better time to try?

"AAAAUUGH!"

She cried out and cringed again, her hands clenching and unclenching to soothe the pain. More purple seeped out of her wounds. It was no use. This Tevinter anti-mage toxin was apparently legitimate, and very potent. Was this what the mages were subjected to in the Circle under drastic measure? She didn't know which seemed worse – losing the ability to use magic for a while to be at the beck and call of others, or becoming Tranquil altogether.

"You are in a dangerous predicament, Hawke. Even you should be aware of that by now." Fenris' voice thundered above her. "Or are you honestly _that _stupid? First you fraternize with a lunatic-abomination, then you try to pawn me off to Tevinter like some sort of trinket. And now you're going to try your hand at blood magic?"

"You gave me no choice." She coughed. "You patronizing son of a bitch."

"Well, before you try to use your filthy blood magic again, I'll save you the trouble by telling you that you won't be seeing enough blood to complete a single ritual."

She glared at him and bit her lip. Not unless she used _his _blood - that was her only option now.

Fenris' foot left her backside and she seized her chance. Ignoring the deep, tormenting pain in her hands and arms, she lunged for him the minute he left himself unguarded. Her meager claws grabbed at his skin, reaching for his arms and face. She had no idea what she was doing, but she was desperate.

But Fenris let out a loud growl and before she knew it, her wrists were twisted behind her back. She let out a agonizing cry and her head hit the bottom board of her four-post bed and she fell to the ground. She cried out in frustration and tried scrambling up to stand her ground, but Fenris placed one foot on each of her legs, the heavy pressure twisting the sinews in her thighs and rendering her unable to move.

He grabbed both her wrists.

_Thwack. _His palm collided squarely on her cheek and she soon felt yet another burning sensation running through her body. She could even lift her hand to her cheek and soothe the sensation.

"I will not hesitate to strike you again, mage." He growled. "Don't try that with me again, or I will make my next jab through your gut."

"Just get it over with then." She told him grimly. "You want to kill me, don't you? Go ahead at kill me already!"

"I don't answer to you, Hawke." He glared. "Not anymore."

She cried in pain as his heels dug deeper into her thighs.

She felt his calloused hands over her burning hands and wrists, twisting and turning.

"Poor, little mage." He sneered before directing her again: "Turn around."

He didn't wait for her to hesitate. His hands fumbled to her waist and flipped her weak, frail body onto her knees, pushing her towards the headboard of her bed. She cried out in frustration and protest, but the next thing she knew he was overpowering her again and her wrists were tied together with some white rope.

"This is what you wanted for me, Hawke – a life of servitude and torment." He growled into her ear as he secured her to the bedpost. "And now, I'm returning the favor."

"I already told you..." She trembled. "I didn't mean to."

"Shut up." He cut her off. "I'm going to show you just how 'nice' it is to be a slave."

"You don't have to do this..." She started to plead.

She knelt on her own bed, her hands secured and her legs in no easy position to move. Even with her back to him, she saw Fenris take off his belt from the corner of her eyes. What was he going to do? What was his plan? Was he going to-

"Maker, please-"

His calloused hands ripped through the back of her clothes in one fell pull, the fabric of her robes falling to her sheets and her back bared to him.

"Tell me if your being a mage has ever warranted such demeaning torment."

"What are you going to do?" Her lip quivered, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"I'm going to show you what happen when a slave misbehaves." He said darkly as he approached, belt in hand.

She swallowed and looked frantically around her room to find a-

_Crack._

"_OWWW!"_

The belt snapped at her bare back, marking it instantly with a large, pink welt.

"MAKER, STOP!" She yelled, trying to grip the post her hands were tied on desperately, only for her deep gashes to remind her that they were still there. The numbing pain on her back stung and brought tears to her eyes immediately. Her legs shifted, trying to get out of the way of his next blow.

"Count them." He instructed.

"What?!"

_Crack._

She hissed out her cry of pain, writhing under his blow.

"_Count." _His voice ordered sternly. He was oddly calm about lashing out at her. In fact, Hawke was half-certain he was enjoying it. "Count until I tell you to stop, mage."

_Crack._

"Auugh! Two!" She swallowed uneasily, her breath heavy but uneasy.

She heard two heavy steps come towards her swiftly and the moment she turned her head to see what he was going to do, she felt his rough, violent hand clutch her jaw and push it against the cold wall. Her cheek mashed against the wallpaper cruelly and she knelt there like a submissive little rat, with Fenris' breathing hotly trailing down her neck and onto her back.

"Stupid, little mage." He snarled. "Did they not teach you how to count?"

"W-what?" She could barely talk.

"Start over with the counting." He told her. "We're going to do this until you get it right."

"Fenris, please!" She begged as he let her go and returned to his position beside the bed. "I didn't mean to! I'll never do it again! I was wrong to assume mages and slaves were no different! I was wrong to send you away!"

"A hypocrite is what you are, Hawke." Fenris replied, smirking and watching her figure out how to deal with the new pain he had given her. "You think being able to set sparks and fires in the living room will make you a social outcast. You think you have it so horribly and that your life is doomed to eternal oblivion just because no one will accept you. But at least you can live in a functioning society. At least the Circle gives you food, a reigning Enchanter to lead you, and a community where you are accepted."

_Crack._

"AAAUGH! No! Th-That's where you are wrong! You can't - you can't honestly tell me that being in a Circle is good." Hawke breathed. "The Circle is filled with Templars, just as biased as you! They will not hesitate to accuse mages of evil deeds! They will not hesitate to make us Tranquil at the smallest mistake! Please, come to your senses!"

"Are you going to count or not?" Fenris asked smugly. "We're going to go to twenty. Hopefully you won't pass out."

"Please, you are just proving my-"

_Crack. _

"ONE!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

_Crack._

She sobbed. "Fenris, please..."

"If you want to stop counting, we'll have to start over."

"Fine! Two!"

_Crack._

"Three!"

She tried to lean further towards the wall to make each lash less painful, but it didn't work.

_Crack._

"Four! Fenris, please! Listen to me!"

_Crack._

"Five! Please, Fenris!" She sobbed. "I'm sorry!"

_Crack._

"S-six..." Her voice was starting to sound hoarse and dry.

_Crack._

"Fenris, it hurts! Please, I'll do anything... I'll talk to Danarius. I can help you-"

"Count, mage." He growled, ignoring her pleas. "Unless you want to start over again."

_Whack._

"Start over." He demanded.

"No...No.. please."

_Whack._

"One..." She breathed through her tears. She couldn't even see her surroundings anymore.

_Whack._

"Two..."

_Whack._

"Th-three..."

* * *

Fenris gazed at the pink and red ridges on her pale, soft skin. The large weals on her back were nothing compared to what he had suffered in the hands of his master. There were far more painful, more sadistic and powerful ways to make a slave suffer. Even mage traitors and prisoners were treated with the same torment if they were found guilty of criminal activities. Danarius had made Fenris watch a good share of them.

He looked at Hawke's panting and bloodied body in disgust and loathing. The curve of her back rose and fell to her shattered breathing patterns, and there were large bruises on her hips and shoulders. Her wrists were scratched and rashes had formed near the rope he tied her up with. Her body was exhausted; he could tell by the crippled, feeble way she was trying to gather herself back on her knees.

He had given her little over thirty lashes with his belt. Compared to what he had to suffer back when he was a slave, thirty lashes with a normal belt was nothing. At least he hadn't grabbed the horse whip, or any of the spiked weapons Danarius had tucked away in his prized chest.

When he moved closer to her to further examine his handiwork, her eyes fluttered open, startled. She tried shifting away from him, her angry eyes quickly replaced by fear. He smirked and placed on hand on her back; she hissed in reply.

"You think that hurts?" He asked with a cold, mirthless laugh. "I've only just begun."

He carefully reached above her and untied her arms. No doubt her arms were experiencing aching pain and the blood was slowly trying to rush back into her limbs. In fact, he had to grip the back of her head to place her on her back. She yelped in pain as he tugged on her hair but could barely kick or hit him. Weak, pathetic mages. He almost wanted to laugh at her.

"You deserve pain, Hawke. You deserve pain for what you have done to me." He stared at her with wide, powerful eyes that let her know that for once, he was in charge. She was no longer the top player, the leader. She was at his every whim.

"Fenris, I'm sorry. I mean it. What can I do to make things better?" She asked quietly.

He pulled her by the hair and brought her face close to his.

_"Am I hurting you?" _He hissed into her ear._ "Are you in pain, Hawke? Can you feel my anguish, my pain?"_

"Fenris..."

_"Your betrayal to me was stupid."_ He growled._ "It will mean little once I am done with you."_

"I'm sorry..." She sobbed quietly.

"How similar is my plight to yours _now_? All of this – all of what I have done to you – is no different than what I will endure when I am taken back to Tevinter. Are you aware of that now?"

"Yes," She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You apologies are too late, mage. Nothing you say can bring me to take pity on you. Now, what shall I do to you now? Should I make you go to the kitchen and brew me a cup of tea before I whip you some more? Or perhaps I should ask you to scrub the floors and kiss my feet? Or maybe..." He roughly pushed her onto the floor and leaned down to bite her ear, hissing: _"Or maybe I'll ask you to keep me company in bed?"_

"_What? _No... no, wait! Please, don't!"

"Sometimes a slave is even asked to participate in the requests of multiple clients simultaneously." He jeered. "Since you think slaves and mages share such similar plights, does that sound more like your life, little mage?"

"Please, Fenris..."

Her diminutive figure below him only made him feel more powerful, more in control of his life. He wanted to make her suffer for all the years of servitude he had to endure with Danarius, plus all the years he had wasted running around Kirkwall with her. He wanted to make her suffering equal to the amount of agony, pain, and fear he had undergone in all the years in his existing memory.

_Nothing would go back to the way it was now. He had gone too far to stop. _

He felt her nails dragging across his skin fruitlessly, and responded by grabbing hold of her wrists so tightly that she cried out in pain. He savored the look in her eyes, and the deep, long gashes on her palms. But his hunger for vengeance was far from satiated. All he wanted her to feel was the pain he felt at her betrayal.

And at the end, he was going to crush this bitch's heart with his fist.

* * *

"I'd like to see what you look like after I've fucked you into submission." His words were like venom in her ears, cutting into her like shards of glass.

Hawke swallowed a thick lump down her throat and tried to push him away. But this only awarded her with more violent and brutal clashes. She felt his hand on her throat and tried to peel his hands off frantically. He laughed at her feeble attempts before letting go.

"You are a plaything, don't you see?" He told her, enjoying the sight of her trying to regain her vision and her breath. He leaned over and gripped her by the jaw, twisting her to meet his gaze: "Be honest, Hawke: You are not sorry you tried turning me in. You wanted Tevinter's power for your own, just like all the other magisters. You are no different. You're only sorry because I broke out of my confinements to find your worthless, walking corpse. And now, I'm going to kill you for what you've done to me."

"You won't." She blurted out in between her breaths.

"I won't?" He cocked a brow.

"You won't... you wouldn't dare." She told him.

"Don't presume to know me, Hawke." Fenris glared at her dangerously. "I would dare to kill you, and I would dare to take you by force, in whatever manner I prefer. I am not at your beck and call, I am not your slave. I am not anyone's toy anymore. And you, despicable mage, are going to be the first to experience this as truth."

Without hesitation, he climbed on top of her and forced her legs open.

Hawke's pleading gaze never left his dark, angry stare. She looked at his hurt, pained expression and wished with all her heart that she would awaken from this dream, and perhaps even get out of bed and run down to his mansion to give him a big hug.

___Maker, if this was a dream – please let it be a dream – I'll never chastise or argue with Fenris ever again! Maker, please let this be a dream. I want to wake up, I want to wake up...Please let me wake from this! Please let me wake up! Wake up NOW!_

But when she still felt his hot breath on her skin, she opened her eyes to frantically look at the olive eyes of her former ally. Fenris' once calm expression was now marred with anger and disgust. She knew he loathed her with every fiber of his being for what she did. She knew he wanted to hurt her, and probably the rest of her companions too – especially Anders.

Was he really going to do this? He was just scaring her, right? This wasn't real. Anders will get here any minute now... right? It was almost midnight.

As he pressed against her and she felt his hard erection against her groin.

No. This was real. Fenris was serious.

He enjoyed this. He enjoyed hurting her. He enjoyed making her feel his pain, making her scream and cry in agony. He enjoyed watching her twist and turn under him.

She tried to shake him off, her hands pushing and shoving, her legs kicking and thrashing. But he had her exactly where he needed her, and she knew it.

"This is what being a slave means for me,_" _He hissed as he roughly kissed her lips.

At first, she was surprised by his sudden romantic gesture, but when she realized that he was biting her, she drove her nails against his skin, dragging down his lyrium tattoos. But he didn't seem fazed by her actions, and instead viciously tugged the opening of her robes to expose her breasts.

"You will be humiliated. You will be used." He snarled as he grabbed her breast and squeezed so hard she cried out from the pain. "You are reduced to nothing but a plaything, a toy."

He leaned over and bit her nipple, evoking more cries from her as she clutched his hair, trying to pull him away from her chest. She didn't know which was worse: The fact that she thought she deserved this, or the fact that Fenris was roughly sucking on her to the point that the pain surging through her bordered on some sort of a wild, kinky pleasure.

His fingers tore up her undergarments into shreds and she lay on her own bed, trying to fight him off, twice tumbling off the bed only to be dragged back to her bedsheets. Fenris awarded her attempts at escaping with further blows to her cheeks, as well as her bare ass.

Hawke writhed and struggled as hard as she could, but already she could feel his tip pressing against her dry, unprotected mound. She wasn't ready for this. She knew he was far too large for her, but she also knew that Fenris didn't give a fuck.

He positioned himself under her, grasping her slender hips firmly, and he slammed into her with one fell thrust, putting in all his might.

"MAKER, PLEASE! DON'T BE SO ROUGH!" She begged. "IT HURTS!"

She arched her back with the terrible pain as the tight skin of her insides tore open, almost fainting from the excruciating pain. Fenris pressed further and further inside her until his entire monstrous manhood was deep inside her shaft.

Then he pulled himself out of her warmth almost completely, only to fully plunge himself deep inside her a second later. She cried out in a mixture of protest and pleasure. Her heart twisted uncomfortably as her mind flashed images of Anders. She cried, tears forming under her eyes instantly.

_No. No, no, no, no, no! No more! Maker, please!_

_Anders, where are you?_

She hoped with every fiber of her being that she had some untapped, telepathic potential.

Fenris looked at her excruciated, agonized expression with sadistic anger and desire.

Luckily, her body was betraying her and the wet juices from her core had started to lessen the pain. But just when she thought the worst was over, Fenris started a whole new relentless assault on her body. His hips thrusted his cock into her with rhythmic perfection, his hands grabbed her hair and brushed against her skin in a rough touch, violent and painful. Each thrust was filled with a rage that had consumed him.

Maker, what had she done?

Anders was never this rough. Anders was a gentle, kind person, and he always made sure he didn't hurt her. Anders showered kisses down her neck and brushed his hands lightly against her skin. Anders was tender and playful in bed. Anders loved her.

"OW! PLEASE, STOP THIS!"

She cried out in pain as he filled her to the hilt again. Every thrust he made granted cries from her raspy throat. She tried to move underneath him. She tried to make the welts on her back avoid the brushing against the sheets beneath. She tried to shrink away, but he held her hips firmly and pulled her to meet every thrust. His hips slapped lewdly against her flesh and the noise echoed the bedroom.

What would Anders think if he saw this?

Above her, Fenris groaned as he drilled his cock into her wet pussy and drove her with force against the headboard again and again. He was knocking the air out of her lungs with each thrust, and when she tried once more to scratch and claw at him, it only encouraged him to drive himself deeper and harder into her wet center.

"This is what being a slave means to me, Hawke." He snapped through his teeth viciously, glaring down at her like a hungry, ferocious predator. "This is what it's like in Tevinter, as a slave for Danarius. What do you think, hm? How does it compare to being a mage?"

"Stop, please!" She yelled at him through her tears.

"No. I will not stop. A magister will not stop just because you tell him to. Slaves don't get a say in anything. You do what you're told, whenever and wherever the magister desires." Fenris snarled, pulling her hair in his fist. "You're going to take all of me, you worthless bitch. And I'm going to fuck you like a whore."

As appalled as she was at his words, she was too busy attempting to pull and twist her legs away in order to prevent him from hitting that painful spot inside her. But Fenris only growled at her and grabbed her hips tighter. She felt like fainting with each time he pierced into her. When she tried snapping her legs together to stop his powerful attacks, he grabbed her thighs, pushed her legs up until he could look down at her exposed, wet pussy, and held her in that position, shoving his cock into her again and again.

Her tears were mixing together with her sweat, and it was starting to sting her eyes.

The sex was brutal and crazed. His thrusts were violent, brutal and sadistic. She was almost sure he was not as aroused at her than he was at the idea of torturing her and taking her against her will. Salty tears streaked down her cheeks as he continued his assault on her wet core, plowing into her relentlessly. His eyes glowed with anger and bitterness as he fucked her like she was his cheap whore.

Fenris claimed her as his own, his hand reaching up and wrapping around her long, slender neck. Her eyes widened the moment he applied pressure to her flesh, she began to choke. She felt her own pulse under his thumb as she struggled, all the while Fenris was thrusting deep inside her. Her toes curled and she tried to fight off her frenzied emotions.

___He wouldn't, would he? Oh, what was she saying? Fenris hated her! He loathed her! He was really going to kill her! Maker, help!_

She felt humiliated, being savagely taken on her own bed, in her own home, with her legs wide open for her assailant to view, and his hands around her throat. She lay there, taking Fenris' cock deeper and deeper. She no longer had any strength to fight him. Her eyes were flashing white.

At that moment, his hands released her neck, But his every rough stroke hit her with a pang of pain and brushed up against her most sensitive spot. She gasped, squirmed, choked and cried out to him. She didn't even know what she wanted anymore, or what she was saying. Her uncontrolled blabbering was enough to make her feel like she had lost herself.

She just wanted it over and done with. But her body was pulsating and her heart was beating with each plunge. She cried out from both the pain in her wounds and the pleasure of his thick, powerful length.

He thrust in and out, in and out, with her body taunting and milking him. Everything was out of her control now. Fenris growled and continued to slam into her indelicately until she felt him go rigid and cry out in satisfaction. She whimpered as he shook violently inside her, groaning and jerking her against him almost cruelly.

He then proceeded to loom over her for a few seconds with his cock still buried inside her, his breath landing on her shoulder hotly.

When her aching legs fell onto the sheets in exhaustion, he immediately withdrew from her and climbed out of the bed. She tried to get up too, but she was far too weak. She lay there, her clothes torn and ripped, her hair completely disheveled, long streaks and bruises on her raw skin, and her body still tied to the headboard.

Fenris quickly pulled up his trousers and fixed his tunic.

He turned and looked at her for a moment. She didn't know what to say to him. Everything she wanted to say, she had already spent the past two hours screaming and yelling to him. She was exhausted, and utterly lost. In fact, she was just about to drift off into sleep, completely helpless to her bodily functions and waiting for Fenris to kill her. But instead, the elf came over and untied her wrists from the headboard.

For a moment, her heart skipped a beat and hoped Fenris was going to let her off the hook.

"_Hawke?!"_

If she had elven ears, she swore they would've perked up in delight at the moment.

_Anders! That was Anders' voice!_

Fenris looked at her with a smug expression, and her face dropped in enthusiasm.

_Wait... no... Fenris was going to-_

"Anders!" She yelled without even thinking. "Anders, don't come over! It's-"

"Fenris! What in the- _MAKER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER!?_"

Anders stood in the doorway, his eyes bulged open at the sight of Hawke's tormented, bloodied body. Her hands were gushing out red and purple, her robes were torn into so many pieces she barely wore anything at all, and she laid on her bed, breathing heavily and completely ashen and pale.

"**YOU FOUL, LOATHESOME BEAST!**" Anders yelled.

He dropped the crate of belongings he had collected from his clinic. Bottles, flasks, books, and a assortment of flowers, along with a wine bottle, crashed onto the floor. Anders immediately had his golden staff in hand and hurled a icy spike towards Fenris.

"Anders, don't!" Hawke choked out. "Don't, he'll kill you!"

"I'm going to fucking kill _him_!" Anders ignored her as he hurled another icicle towards the elf. Fenris dodged it expertly, rolling out of the way and towards his greatsword. Even so, Fenris was instantly pierced on the side by yet another icy spike.

"You will pay for that, mage." Fenris growled as he steadied his weapon and pulled out the icy dagger at his side like it was nothing. Blood splurted out, but Fenris' glowing lyrium seemed to keep his wound at bay.

Meanwhile, Hawke was struggling as much as she could to wiggle off of her bed and help in any way she could. She didn't have the use of her magic, and her hands were aching so badly that even thinking about creating lightning sparks from her fingers made her chest swell up in agony and her head produce a twinging, sharp pain. But she didn't care. If she lost her use in magic, it didn't matter. As long as she could help Anders get out of her and escape.

"Anders, run." She told him weakly. "Please... he wants me. He means to kill me. GO. Just go."

"I would never leave you. Not like this." Anders told her, blocking Fenris' sword with his staff. His eyes glowed bright blue as his free hand wrapped itself around Hawke's naked waist, lifting her up to stand. "Trust me, love."

His voice, even though it was half-Justice's deep baritone roaring and echoing in her eardrums, was enough to make her believe that there was hope.

Anders shot forth a jet of blue light, pushing Fenris to the far side of the room. The glow in his eyes was enough to rival Fenris'. Her entire bedroom was entirely bathed in bright blue.

They made it down the stairs as quickly as possible. Hawke could walk on her own plenty, but when it came to maintaining her balance, anything she touched triggered the shrill, deep pain from the gaping holes on her hands. She tried to create sparks while on her way down with Anders, but it only intensified her torment. Maker, when was this blasted curse going to end?!

"Don't." Anders told her, ushering her through the kitchen. "If you push yourself too hard, you may not be able to use magic ever again. That's how the serum works."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen it before when I was in with the Wardens." He explained as he bolted the door behind them. "It's not a pretty sight. Here, take my robe to cover yourself."

"Anders-" She took his robe politely and looked at him, ashamed and teary-eyed.

"I'm going to kill him." Anders growled. "I'll rip his fucking heart out myself."

"Don't, Anders. Please. I want you safe. I just want to go somewhere he'll never find!"

"Hawke-"

_BLAM._

The door to the kitchen slammed open, the bolt busting loose in on fell swoop from Fenris' greatsword, clinking sadly onto the tiled ground. The blue light from his lyrium taunted the couple as Fenris entered the kitchen. Hawke stood near the back door, desperately scrambling to unlock it.

"Running from me?" Fenris snarled as he stepped closer.

Anders shielded the both of them with his staff and took his stance before Fenris.

"Don't..." She pleaded to the both of them.

"I was just about to tell you how delicate her skin was." Fenris clicked his tongue, his mouth curving into a wicked, cruel smirk.

"YOU DISGUSTING, VILE DEMON!" Anders shouted, charging. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO HER!"

Anders let out a deep, enraged roar, Justice screaming at his side. The thundering clash of staff and blade nearly exploded Hawke's kitchen into pieces. Pans and dust flew in the air, and the flashes of white were everywhere, followed by the clanging noises of metal on metal.

"Watch out!" She cried as she spotted Anders through the dust.

And then...

**RED.**

**RED EVERYWHERE.**

It splattered her face, her robe, her skin...

She tasted it on her tongue and lips...

She saw it on her kitchen floor, in her sink, on her walls...

She fell to her knees.

Her hands hit the floor and she felt that familiar pain rush up her arms. The bones on her knees making a sickening crack as it collided with the cold, stone floor of her dusty, unused kitchen...

She stared into the lifeless eyes of her lover.

The smoky, blue hue in his dilated pupils stared back at her desperately as they dimmed, blinking between colors, and finally fluttered closed like a dying flame.

_No._

_No._

_No, no, no._

Her hands flew to her head. She barely felt the pain anymore. Compared to this, all her pain was nothing. Her heart twisted in more agony, pain, and anger than she had ever felt before.

_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!_

_This wasn't happening... This can't be happening._

_You'll be awake in a minute, right baby? You're just playing dead. You're being cruel and teasing me! This is a nightmare and when I wake up, you'll be by my side and you'll tell me that you're going to move in. You'll tell me that our plans to liberate mages can't go wrong. You'll tell me that you love me, and everything will be okay as long as we're together._

_Get. Up. Get up and tell me you're joking._

_Tell me you're just playing with me. Tell me you love me and that you'll never leave._

_You promised._

_You promised you were going to move in with me._

_You promised!_

_WAKE UP!_

_WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!_

Her head was spinning, her world was out of reach. Her voice could not be found. Everything turned black and dreary. Everything was on fire. Her heart burned with a destructive flame. Her eyes leaked like a broken faucet. Her lips quivered like she was in the arctic wind during winter.

"Worthless abomination."

Fenris' voice rung in her ears like a venomous poison that made her ears turn red.

She brought herself up from her knees and screamed at him in a agonizing frenzy, raising her fist and charging at him with all that she had. With every ounce of her being, she focused all her magical abilities and threw them at the elf.

He raised his sword up in attempt to shield himself, but the seal on her magic had broken loose in her desperation and anguish, and she immediately snapped his arm with a deadly bolt.

Fenris groaned in pain and glared furiously at her, still glowing blue.

"You will regret that." He told her.

"NO. I wont." She glared back. "I am going to kill you. I will avenge Anders."

"You will do not such thing."

She unleashed all that she had on him. But without her staff, and with his venom still hindering her magical abilities, even her strongest of magics couldn't make a significant dent in him. Fenris' arm was bleeding a little, but it was nothing compared to what she had to endure.

In fact, he was just playing at her.

He was just making her exhausted from creating amateur sparks and flames at him.

But she was going to trying anyway.

Maker's Grace, she was going to fucking kill him, or haunt him for the rest of her life.

* * *

At the end of the night, by the break of dawn, Hawke and Anders lay in a puddle of crimson. The kitchen was bathed and colored in red and smelled of a disgusting mixture of metal and honey. Desecrated organs and rotting flesh added to the room's foul odors. Blood was dripping from the kitchen table and seeping down the drain. The echo of each scarlet droplet hitting the tiled floor was the only sound to come from the Hawke Estate.

Hawke's heart was plopped on the ground right next to the two corpses.

Fenris stared at the four lifeless eyes that gazed blankly back at him.

He sighed deeply, walked towards the back door, and left the mansion for the last time.

He left Kirkwall.

He never wanted to come back.

And as he traveled Thedas, wondering where he could go, and what awaited him, he couldn't help but frown at the dark, burning hatred still yet to be sated in his heart. His mouth was dry and his throat was parched.

Victory never tasted to bitter.


End file.
